


when there’s nothing left to burn (you have to set yourself on fire)

by endlessnighttimesky



Category: Bandom, Death Spells, My Chemical Romance
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Band Break Up, Established Relationship, M/M, Making Up, Post Break Up, Riding, Top!Frank, Topping from the Bottom, bottom!Gerard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-10
Updated: 2013-10-10
Packaged: 2017-12-29 01:06:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/999048
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/endlessnighttimesky/pseuds/endlessnighttimesky
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>"I missed you," Frank mumbles, touching his lips to the spot just below Gerard's ear, making him shiver. "A lot. James has been telling me to stop sulking at least twice a day since we left."</em> (Or, In Which Mikey Way And James Dewees Are Scheming Motherfuckers.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	when there’s nothing left to burn (you have to set yourself on fire)

**Author's Note:**

> Angst and porn because I get sad and horny when I stay up too late. Jamia and Lindsey don't exist in this universe, and instead Gerard and Frank have been in a vaguely-public relationship since somewhere around 2008. Everything else is pretty much the same. (Also, I'm convinced this does not reflect Gerard's actual feelings about the break-up in any way whatsoever.) Title from _Your Ex-Lover Is Dead_ by Stars.

"Mister-fucking-perfect," Gerard growls, kicking at the empty soda can by his feet and sending it through the alley with a clatter. He spins around in a lightning-quick move, facing Frank again. "They blame me, y'know? It's all my fault and no one else's. Poor everyone-but-Gerard. As if I fucking wanted this." He turns around again, kicking at more litter. "God, I just want a fucking  _drink_."

Frank freezes. He's been still ever since Gerard started talking - ranting, screaming, whatever - but now he's paralyzed, mouth hanging open and feet stuck to the ground like he's standing in a block of concrete.

"Don't look so fucking surprised," Gerard grumbles, running a hand through his hair. There's a gleam in his eyes that Frank recognizes from years ago, the first time they tried to get him to quit drinking. It wasn't that long before Osaka, but long enough for Gerard not to want to, not to care. Not yet. Frank is almost entirely sure that if he offered Gerard a beer right now, he would take it.

"I'm sorry."

Gerard looks up from the patch of asphalt he's been glaring at. "What?"

"I'm sorry," Frank says, stronger this time, clearer. "I'm sorry for shutting you out, and I'm sorry for not being there, and I'm sorry I let it go on for this long. I'm really fucking sorry."

For a few tense seconds, Gerard just stares at him, like he can't really believe what just came out of Frank's mouth, but then he's striding over, hands on Frank in an instant, cupping his face and then they're sighing into each other's mouths, warm and so familiar it almost hurts. Frank hadn't realized how much he'd missed it.

"Me too," Gerard says when they break apart for air. Frank's lips are swollen and glistening, but Gerard is looking him in the eyes, face conveying remorse so clearly that Frank just has to kiss him again.

§ § §

They're still making out when James finds them ten minutes later.

"I'm not even sure if I should be surprised," he says, loud enough for his voice to carry through the alley down to where Gerard has the other half of Death Spells pressed up against the brick wall.

They don't even startle apart - Frank just uncurls his hand from the back of Gerard's neck and flips him off, then holds up five fingers.

"Yeah, okay, but if you take more than that I'm telling the fangirls where you are," James says, and turns around to go load the last of the equipment into the van.

§ § §

When Frank reappears five minutes later, his smile is so wide that James would think that he just got sucked off if it wasn't for the obvious bulge in his jeans.

He sniggers. "Lookin' good there, Frankie."

Frank grins at him from the passenger seat and shamelessly adjusts his junk. "Mmm. Feeling even better." His eyes are a little dazed.

"I wouldn't doubt it for a second, my man."

Frank laughs - really laughs, and James can barely remember the last time he heard him do that. Even Frank seems a little startled by it, which just cracks him up even more. They're still laughing by the time they pull up outside the hotel.

"Fuck," Frank says, but there's a smile in his voice. "I needed that."

"You really did," James agrees wholeheartedly.

"Seriously, though," Frank says as they walk into the lobby. "Thanks. Who knows where I'd ended up without you."

James just smiles. "What are friends for? And if there's anyone to thank, it's Mikeyway, for wrestling his stubborn-as-fuck brother onto that goddamn plane."

"I'll have to call him and thank him for that," Frank says. "After I have my wicked way with said brother."

"I really didn't need that mental image," James groans. "At least when you were sad you weren't so fucking horny."

Frank is vaguely aware of the receptionist staring at them, but he doesn't even care right now. He waggles his eyebrows at James. "You're totally lusting for my hot body, don't even front."

"Yeah, sorry, no. Also, if I did, I'm pretty sure your boyfriend would have me dead in a ditch somewhere by now."

Frank nods, because, "Yeah, probably. Still, it was totally your idea. I owe you one." They've been friends for far too long to still be counting favors, but there's a small mixing console he knows James has had his eyes on for a while, and it's not like Frank's strapped for cash.

"I'm okay as long as you're not crying into your soy latte," James says, and Frank shudders because, yeah, no, that hadn't been a good day. Then something is pushed into his palm, and when he looks down, there's a plastic card there, sticking out of a paper sleeve that has two numbers written on it.

"You're on floor nine," James says. "Room 387."

Frank tries to remember how many floors he'd seen when they walked inside - couldn't have been much more than ten, which means number nine should definitely be high up enough for king size beds.

He smiles at James. "You totally planned this, didn't you?"

"Maybe. Maybe not. All I know is that I'm two floors below you which hopefully should be enough to avoid any, um, disturbances."

"Hopefully," Frank repeats.

"Hopefully."

§ § §

Gerard is already naked by the time Frank opens the door to their room, spread out on what most definitely looks like a California king, propped up on a collection of white pillows. He's touching himself, one hand jerking his slick cock with slow, tight strokes while the other pinches at a nipple, scratches at his flushed chest. He barely even reacts when Frank walks in, just opens his eyes and grins lazily at Frank.

"No fair," Frank says breathlessly and throws himself onto the bed, hard enough to make them both bounce. "You started without me."

"Mm. Couldn't help myself. Was thinkin' about you, how hard you were when you left. How I would've sucked you off right there, if we had more time."

A shiver runs through Frank's entire body, from the base of his spine and out to his fingertips and toes. With a calloused hand on Gerard's jaw, he angles his head so he can kiss him, rough and sloppy right from the start.

"Too many clothes," Gerard whines between gasps, clawing at Frank's t-shirt and pushing at his hoodie.

Sitting up, Frank pulls both items off, toeing his shoes off over the edge of the bed while he's at it. Gerard's hands are at his jeans now, unbuttoning and unzipping before he drags them down his hips together with his underwear, nails leaving red scratches behind.

He pulls and pushes at Frank until he's the one sinking into the sea of pillows, feet flat to the mattress and knees spread around Gerard as he mouths at Frank's dick, licking around the base and along the shaft before he closes his mouth over the head, making Frank moan. He tongues the slit before he goes down, slowly, lips tight and wet around Frank's cock as he takes it deeper into his throat. He doesn't stop until he's got a nose full of pubes and Frank's scent, and then he stays there, breathing carefully through his nose.

Above him, Frank's mouth hangs open, eyes wide as he feels Gerard's throat constrict around him. It's not like he doesn't know Gerard can do this, but it's been a while, and even if Gerard did this every fucking day, he's sure it would never stop being as mind-blowingly hot as it is right now.

When Gerard finally pulls off, he looks up at Frank and smirks, the tip of his tongue working around the head, making everything so fucking wet.

"I wanna ride you," he says, and his voice is  _wrecked_. Frank isn't sure if that's what makes his brain short the fuck out, or if it's Gerard's words. Most likely, it's both.

"Fuck, Jesus,  _yes_ ," he says, and he's not sure if he broke his voice during the show or if it's just Gerard and the way he looks, utterly debauched on his stomach between Frank's legs, red mouth still working over Frank's dick.

Smiling, Gerard gives the head of Frank's cock a last suck before he rises to his knees, pushing Frank's legs flat with the palms of his hands. Settling with one leg on each side of Frank's hips, he grinds down and lets Frank's cock ride the cleft of his ass, reaching back to part his cheeks and let it rub over his hole.

"Fucking hell," Frank gasps and throws his head back, squeezing his eyes shut. "I'm gonna come if you keep doing that."

Gerard grins and leans forward to grab a bottle of lube from the bedside table, holding himself up with a hand fisted in the sheets as Frank's mouth works over his shoulder, licking and biting and sucking, hopefully leaving marks.

He whines when Gerard pulls away, and just for that, Gerard ducks down to kiss him, one hand pressed to the mattress and the other curled around the back of Frank's neck, holding him up so he can bring their lips together in a mess of spit and teeth and tongues.

Frank is so lost in it all that he doesn't even notice when Gerard's hand drifts away from his neck, moving downward, but then he's breaking the kiss to moan into Frank's mouth, eyes squeezed shut as he works a finger into his ass.

"Oh, _fuck_ ," Frank curses, because that's just - he doesn't even have words for how hot it is. Gerard is rocking back onto his hand in tiny increments, swaying on his hands and knees above Frank, breathing in little gasps that Frank swallows greedily. Lifting his hands, Frank strokes over Gerard's side with one while he cups the other one around Gerard's neck, applying pressure until he collapses onto Frank's chest, panting into his shoulder. He's still on his knees, two fingers buried inside himself, arm aching from the awkward angle but he's pushing in with a third soon anyway, spreading them and readying himself for Frank's cock. Just the thought of it sends a shudder through him, and he can imagine how obscene he looks, ass up over Frank like this, fingers stretching his hole.

Up the slope of Gerard's back, Frank can see the muscles in his arm tensing and relaxing with every push, fingers disappearing just behind the curve of his ass. He looks just as beautiful from this angle as from any other, pale skin glistening with sweat in the dim light of the room, droplets sliding down his back to collect between his shoulder blades. It makes Frank want to fuck him from behind, makes him want to lick and bite at the curve of his shoulder and hold his hips tight between his fingers, but then he flashes back to all the times Gerard has ridden him before, the way he slides down so, so slowly, only to take the last inch in less than a second, just dropping down into Frank's lap, and yeah, no, that's really fucking good, too.

"I thought you were gonna ride me," Frank says into the damp skin of Gerard's neck, nipping a little.

Gerard chuckles in his ear, low and throaty. "Patience is a virtue."

"Teasing is a sin," Frank mumbles and bites down, making Gerard groan.

"Mm, fuck." He pushes himself up until he's vertical again and then slides back, straddling Frank's thighs and grabbing the lube, basically upending the bottle over Frank's dick. Frank inhales sharply at the first touch of Gerard's hand on his cock, working him with long, slow strokes, slicking him up and making him ready.

Gerard smirks as he lifts himself onto his knees, and then Frank doesn't have the faintest idea of what Gerard's face looks like because his eyes are shut tight as Gerard sinks down on his dick, taking him slowly at first, just like Frank knew he would, only to drop down about halfway through. He leans back, like he always does at first, fingers digging into the mattress as he rolls and grinds his hips until he finds the angle that makes him gasp at the ceiling. His head is thrown back, exposing the long line of his throat, milky-white skin that Frank wants to cover in bruises.

"God," Frank breathes, pushing up into Gerard, not really thrusting yet, "look at you. Like a fucking porn star, I swear."

Gerard lifts his head, grins down at Frank. "You like it?" he asks, voice rough and breathless, sounding like he just smoked an entire pack of cigarettes in one go.

"Like you even have to - _ah, fuck_ \- ask," Frank pants. "Stupid."

"You probably shouldn't call the guy riding your cock stupid," Gerard gasps, rolling his head from one side to the other. "He might stop."

"Fuck no, he won't," Frank says, grabbing Gerard's hips and meeting him with a thrust as he bottoms out, startling a moan out of him.

"Oh God," Gerard breathes, closing his eyes again. "Fuck, you feel so fucking good. Always want you filling me up, stretching me like this."

Frank groans. "Your fucking mouth, Gee, I swear to God, so fucking filthy, gonna have to fucking gag you or you're gonna make me come."

"You close?"

"Take a fucking - _fuck_  - guess. You?"

"Yeah, fuck, I'm just - " Leaning forward, Gerard places his hands on Frank's chest, head hanging down between his shoulders as he practically bounces in Frank's lap, meeting his every thrust. "Touch me, fuck, please, Frankie, just - "

"Yeah, yeah, fuck," and then Frank is wrapping his hand around Gerard's cock which has been neglected so far, and now it's thick and slick with precome at the tip, practically fucking dripping. It doesn't take a lot, just a few strokes and a twist of Frank's wrist before he's shuddering and coming, mouth wide open as he shoots all over Frank's chest and clenches around his dick, still raising and lowering himself a little, like he's not even aware he's doing it.

That's all it takes before Frank's coming too, spilling inside Gerard as he pushes as deep as possible, riding out his orgasm until he's nothing but a molten mess of heavy limbs and gasping breaths.

"Oh God," Gerard breathes as he comes down, panting into the side of Frank's neck. "I really needed that."

"Fuck, me too," Frank says, chest still rising and falling rapidly. "Remind me to send Mikey a fruit basket or something."

Gerard giggles into Frank's hair and slings an arm across Frank's chest, narrowly avoiding the mess of cooling come. "We should probably clean up."

"I know," Frank says, but neither of them make any effort to move.

The room goes quiet, with the exception of their still-heavy breathing, and the sound of cotton sliding against skin as Frank rolls onto his side, facing Gerard. He presses a kiss to the corner of his mouth, nuzzling his jaw and breathing in the scent of him, sweat and smoke and remnants of something flowery, maybe Frank's shampoo.

"I missed you," he mumbles, touching his lips to the spot just below Gerard's ear, making him shiver. "A lot. James has been telling me to stop sulking at least twice a day since we left."

Gerard smiles, turns his head to slot their lips together startlingly chaste kiss, compared to the ones they've been sharing for the past hour. "I missed you too. And Mikey's been telling me the exact same thing for like, a month."

"Scheming motherfuckers, s'what they are," Frank mumbles, hazy and tired, feeling the adrenaline seep out of him. "Plotting conspiracies behind our backs."

"Conspiracies that lead to great sex," Gerard reminds him, and Frank makes an agreeing sound, because, well, yeah.

"Are you falling asleep?" Gerard asks, and Frank would wipe the smirk evident in his voice off his face if he could make any of his limbs move.

"No," Frank mumbles, just as his eyes slip shut, but he can imagine the look on Gerard's face, that fond little smile.

Lips touch his temple and a warm hand pushes sticky strands of hair off his forehead, stroking down over his cheek.

"I'll go get a towel," Gerard says, and then a weight disappears from the bed, leaving Frank shivering on the damp sheets as Gerard's footsteps disappear into the bathroom. He comes back with a warm washcloth that he swipes over Frank's stomach, strokes firm so it won't tickle.

"C'mere," Frank mumbles as he blinks through getting under the covers, patting the space beside him. Gerard smiles and slides in, as close to Frank as possible.

Sleep-drunk and uninhibited, Frank wraps himself around Gerard, holding him close to his chest and burying his face in the hollow of his throat.

It feels like coming home.


End file.
